


Lost and Found (Chris Evans x You)

by captainofherheart



Category: Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: Chris Evans Fanfiction, Chris Evans x ofc, F/M, captainofherheart, chris evans angst, chris evans fan fic - Freeform, chris evans fanfic - Freeform, chris evans rpf, chris evans x reader insert, chris evans x you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-11-24 06:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18162617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainofherheart/pseuds/captainofherheart
Summary: It’s said that if you love someone, you should set them free. If they come back, they’re yours. If they don’t, they never were. In 1999 you had it all. You’d just graduated high school and had a bright future planned.. You were also in a solid relationship with your long time boyfriend, Chris Evans, who was an aspiring actor with the world at his feet. Everything was perfect, until you were faced with making the heartbreaking sacrifice of letting him go so he could follow his dreams. A sacrifice that would be just the first in a long line of them.  Eleven years later, Chris comes back into your life and your decision comes back to haunt you, and change your life forever.This story will be a total of 7 chapters plus an epilogue





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warnings: Language, angst, fighting

**August, 1999:**

 

You never meant to break your heart.  Or his. 

It was the summer after high school graduation.  A time when the world was at your feet, and the possibilities were endless.  You were technically considered an adult now at 18, although there were those moments when you wished for nothing more than to be a child again.  Especially when adulthood posed such difficult decisions. Sometimes heartbreaking ones. 

Since last summer, the only question everyone seemed to have for you, your boyfriend Chris, and all of the kids about to enter senior year, seemed to be, “What are you going to do after graduation?”

You knew exactly what you were going to do and informed them, every time, “I’m going to attend business school and then take over the family business.”

That business was a flower shop.  Your parents had built it from the ground up, almost twenty five years ago, and it had grown from a small mom and pop shop to a renowned and trusted fixture in Sudbury, Massachusetts, and beyond.  You wanted them to be able to retire while they were still young enough to enjoy themselves, travel the world, and find new passions. 

You had grown up at that shop.  As a child, you had done your homework in the stock room.  When most kids had been earning money at 12 and 14 by babysitting, you had been learning the art of floral design from your mother and the art of business from your father. Not to mention, you had been working the register, taking orders, and learning customer service skills.  

Now you were the perfect blend of both parents.  You had your father’s business mind, and your mother’s creative heart.   

Chris had his goals, too.  You’d first met him while you'd both performed in South Pacific at the local community theater.  After trying one more show, you had given up the acting thing as you were unable to get over your stage fright, but Chris had loved the rush he got from it.  He even wanted to pursue it professionally. 

Last summer, he had taken a crucial step towards that goal by spending time in New York City, taking acting lessons and getting an internship. The experience had cemented his decision to move to Los Angeles after school was over.  Every time you'd spoken, he'd gushed over how amazing it was, the contacts he was making, how much he was improving. He'd been so confident that he was going to make it, saying that he "just knew it" and you had no doubt that he would. 

The time apart had been hard.  You had been a couple since just after you'd turned 16,  and things were serious. Not “getting engaged tomorrow” serious, but you’d had those “one day” talks about the type of home you would have together, the number and gender of children.  Little white picket fence daydreams. He’d be a big movie star, a leading man, and you would own a franchise of flower shops throughout the country and be free to travel the world with him on locations. 

You’d come to find that those had been wistful daydreams.  The reality of what it would be like to be with someone who was away for work a lot was harder than you’d thought.  Being apart for those three months had been brutal, but you'd worked through it. There had been nightly calls and a few weekend trips back and forth to see each other.  But it hadn't been enough and you'd truly questioned if you’d be able to handle the separations on a regular basis if things went as he hoped.

Those questions and doubts had plagued you over the last year.  You tried to discuss them with Chris, but he instantly got defensive about it.  You often wondered if it was because the concerns hit too close to home for him, as well.  Rather than talk about it, he just avoided the situation altogether by simply doing nothing.  In his eyes, even with him in California, things would be normal. He was too stubborn to believe anything otherwise.  

Chris had always suffered from anxiety and self criticism.  They were his greatest weaknesses. He had no doubt whatsoever as to what he wanted to do with his life, but, as the reality of leaving everything and everyone he knew behind drew nearer, he seemed to shut down. It was easier to stay where he was than to take that first step towards chasing his dreams.  Chris made no plans, booked no flights to California, made no headway. He just stayed home, spent time with friends, and hung around the flower shop until your parents chased him out. 

After several conversations, it was clear to you that one of things holding him back was his concern over your relationship.  This wasn’t going to be a couple of months, his career choice was going to mean a somewhat permanent separation. There could be visits here and there, but, for the most part, it was going to be long distance in different time zones.  Without saying it, you both knew in your hearts that it wasn’t something you’d be able to maintain for years. 

That was why your heart was in shreds.  

You weren’t the type of person who could selfishly stand in the way of anyone’s dreams.  Even if it meant saying goodbye. Not because you wanted to, but because you had to. Because you loved him enough to let him go. And you were scared to have your heart broken by him. 

You’d gone out to lunch with his mom, Lisa, a few times after graduation.  She had been trying, to no avail, to get him to make some decisions about his future.  Lisa understood her son better than anyone, and was also incredible understanding and respectful of your relationship with him.  You both wanted what was best for him, both wanted to see him give his dream a shot. It was clear to you both, however, that the biggest obstacle in his way… was you. 

It was now the end of August and decisions needed to be made.  You were going to be starting business school and he needed to get to California to establish himself. The time had come to push him outside of his comfort zone. 

Chris was a wreck. The more time that went by, the more tired and stressed he became.  Until he took the plunge, he would be a prisoner of his own worries. He expressed that he knew that the time had come to make a choice, but he just couldn’t bring himself to make one. 

You talked things over with your parents, and with his. You had made the choice for him, and you needed everyone on board to back you up -- for his sake. Now you just had to see it through without changing your mind. 

Dinner was a quiet affair the evening you decided to put your plan into motion and your mind everywhere else except for the meal. Although it was your favorite restaurant, you could barely taste your food.  The drive back to his house was in complete silence as you built up enough strength do go through with your plan.

He opened your car door for you and fell in step beside you on the walk up the driveway.  

His voice was full of frustration and concern as he as asked, “What’s going on?  You barely spoke at dinner, barely said two words in the car. Are you okay?”

You stopped walking and, not able to look at his face just yet, said, as seriously as you could, “We need to break up.”

Chris stopped walking, coming to a sudden halt.  “We what?!” he asked, grabbing your arm to keep you from passing him.  “What the fuck are you talking about? Why do we -”

You heard the hurt in his voice and decided to keep your voice monotone, hoping to avoid his anger escalating. “Because it’s time.  You need to move on and so do I.” You couldn’t look at him. Instead you kept your eyes trained on a the ground as you nodded your head to emphasize your words 

With a sarcastic and snarky tone he threw your words back at you.  “It’s time? It’s time for WHAT exactly?” 

He was angry now.  Good. 

You were standing in his parent’s driveway and just praying that everyone inside would mind their own business and not come out to investigate. 

Finally meeting his eyes, your face as stone cold as possible, you told him, “It’s time for you to shit or get off the pot.  I mean seriously, Chris, what are you still doing here in Sudbury? Hollywood is on the opposite coast, you’re never going anywhere if you stay here.”

His voice was rising, his arms flailing as he went into a whole new level of sarcasm.   “What am I still doing here? Oh, I don’t know, maybe trying to figure out why the fuck my girlfriend is suddenly trying to get rid of me.”

You didn’t answer.  You couldn’t. Instead, you turned away, looking towards the cars as you willed this moment to be over so you could escape from the nightmare you’d entered. 

“Hello?” he said, moving his head into your line of sight, “Is anyone home? I’m speaking to the person inside of my girlfriend now.  You know, the sane person? Can she come back out now because I really like her more than this crazy ass bit-”

You grabbed his hand as it waved in front of your face and stopped him before he could get any farther. In a voice dripping with derision, you said, “Believe me, she’s here, and she’s never been saner in her entire life.”

Chris took a step back, bracing his hands upon his hips.  He was in full on asshole mode now, which was exactly where you wanted him.  He shrugged his shoulders, cocked his head and asked, “So what is it, then? Why are you trying to push me away, huh?”  His hands went on the move again, hands formed into fists as he shook them, demanding, “Why. Do. You. Want. To. Break. Up. With. Me?”

You were silent, trying to form words, but found none coming.  

He put his hands on your shoulders to try to keep you focused on him.  Shaking you slightly, he said, “Why? Answer me, for fuck’s sake!”

You knocked his hands off, looked him directly in the eyes and shouted, “Because I don’t love you anymore!”  

As the words left your mouth, they formed daggers, ripping into your heart as much as his.  When he flinched and you saw the pained expression on his face, your stomach clenched in reaction, feeling like you’d been sucker punched. 

You didn’t mean it, not even a tiny bit, but you knew Chris wouldn’t leave if you held back. Given the look in his eyes, and the tears forming in them, he was apparently not the only good actor in this relationship. Doing this, letting him go, was one of the most difficult decisions you had ever been forced to make, but Chris had big dreams and needed to pursue them.

No matter how much it broke your heart. 

He looked lost, and broken.  The swagger that had been there a moment ago was now deflated like a balloon.  He looked at you, warily, and said, in voice crackling with emotions, “I don’t understand. How can you not love me anymore? Since when? Is this some kind of sick fuckin’ joke?”

You bit back an apology, and blinked back your tears.  You life was here, in Sudbury. You couldn’t go with him.  That wasn’t your dream. Chris needed to follow his and it was clear that he wouldn’t move to Hollywood while he had you in his life. You had no desire or intention of following him there.  The only choice you had was to let him go. 

Chris reached out to touch you and you backed away.  It would destroy your resolve if you let him hug you or if you broke down into tears like the ones streaming down his face.  At that moment, you realized the first person to walk away had to be you. There was no way you could take another second of seeing that defeated and pained expression on his face and remain convincing in your charade.

“Goodbye, Chris.” you said and turned away, heading towards your car, which you had left there earlier.  It was the longest walk of your life, but you did it. To his credit, he didn’t call out after you, didn’t try to stop you.  When you hazarded a glance in his direction as you put your car into reverse, you saw him just standing there with his hands on his hips, watching you go.  You managed to make it to park a few blocks away before needing to pull over and unleash the floodgates of emotions you’d been storing. 

Your heart had never felt so broken in your entire life.  You didn’t know how you were ever going to be able to piece it back together.     

It took a few days, but Chris finally stopped calling, stopped coming to your parent’s house just to be turned away.  It had to be a clean break. It was the only way it would work.

Lisa Evans came to the flower shop about a week later to see you.  She told you of Chris’s sudden change of heart and that he’d finally decided to leave. His dad had flown to California with him that morning to help him find a place and get settled.  

Knowing that he was gone made it official. The final nail in the coffin hit you hard and there was no stopping your emotions from bubbling over. Lisa wrapped her arms around you and hugged you tight.  

When you tears finally stopped, she released your body, but not your face.  That she held, cupped in her hands as she told her honestly, “I’ll never forget what you did for my baby.  I hope one day you and Chris can talk about this and become friends. I love you, sweetheart, and if there’s anything you ever need I’ll be there for you.”

You didn’t know how you’d ever love again.  You still didn’t know if your choice was worth it.  But, what was done was done and the past can never be changed. Only time would tell if it was the right call for both of you.


	2. That Old Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings (for possible triggers): Mentions of Alzheimer's and Parkinson's Disease. Death of parent (father)

**2010:**

 

Just over a decade had passed since that night when you’d broken up with Chris.  All those years somehow felt as if they’d gone by in both a flash and a snail’s pace.  

Eleven years.  

It was practically a lifetime ago.

Since then, you and Chris had moved on, worked hard, and fulfilled your dreams.  You hadn’t kept in touch with each other directly for many years, but you were still close with his family.  When the breakup had first happened, only his parents knew the truth about it. Once the dust had settled, his siblings found out.  They weren’t supposed to know, but Lisa had set them straight when they'd given her a hard time about using your shop for flowers when she had been hosting a banquet for her work.  Each of them had reached out to you and it had helped you heal, but it had also helped you bond and become better friends with them all. 

Chris, however, remained unaware.

Whenever Chris was back home in Sudbury, you made it a point to be scarce and avoided him as much as possible.  Seeing him in person still hurt. It brought back painful memories and way too many thoughts of what might have been.  You didn’t have the leisure time needed to indulge in those. 

Although you’d both found success in your chosen fields, your paths could not have been more different.  

Chris had started getting parts shortly after arriving in California.  He worked steadily, improving his Hollywood status with each new role. 

You’d caught a few of his movies on cable, but only watched a couple in full.  Normally it was too painful, but you were a red blooded American woman and, as he got older, he got better looking.  Most girls watched his films and could only imagine what it felt like to be with him. You knew all too well the feel of his fingers, the touch of his tongue.  Sometimes primal urges could be stronger than those bad memories. Those moments of weakness were your own dirty little secret. 

He’d recently signed on to play Captain America with a long term contract for Marvel. His family had filled you in on how much he dreaded the idea of being locked into a multi-picture deal.  You knew part of the problem was likely the fear of losing his privacy and dealing with paparazzi and the Hollywood machine. When news came that he had accepted the role, you were thrilled for him. It was the breakthrough he’d been waiting for.  It was one of the times you wished that things had ended differently between you and Chris, because you’d always had a natural gift for talking him through stress and worry. 

He had also moved on personally.  There had been several relationships, some long term, with Hollywood starlet after starlet.  When he brought one of them home you prayed you wouldn’t run into them. Seeing him in the tabloids from time to time was enough.  It was always a sting to your heart, but you kept the pain closely guarded. You knew it shouldn’t matter anymore, but you couldn’t help feeling a little relief when you’d hear of the end of each one.  If he ever did settle down, of course you’d be happy for him, but there would always be that touch of jealousy, too. It was stupid and petty, but you couldn’t help it. A part of you would always wish it was you he ended up with. 

As for your own life, things had started off smooth enough.  You attended business school, just like you said you would, and had earned your degree.  Your parents retired and you took over the flower shop. Everything was going according to plan and you couldn’t be happier, or more satisfied.  The business thrived under your enthusiasm and fresh eyes and you loved the fact that you could offer your parents the time together that they’d worked so hard to earn. 

Yes.  Things were going along perfectly.  That is, until dad started to forget things about six years ago.  And then your mom’s hands started to shake. 

Instead of becoming world travelers after retirement, they became prisoners to their own bodies.  Your father was given the heartbreaking diagnosis of Alzheimer's. Your mother was given her own tough battle to face, Parkinson’s Disease, on top of already having to contend with diabetes and a heart condition.   Both deteriorated rapidly. Everyone told you that they needed to be placed into a nursing home to receive the full time care that they needed, but you wouldn’t hear of it. With their different illnesses they would be separated, even if they were placed at the same facility.  They had been together for too long to be apart now. 

You were an only child, no real family that lived nearby.   Your parents needed you, so you decided to give up your apartment and move back home.  The Evans clan, aside from Chris, became part of your support system. Lisa was formidable when it came to dealing with insurance companies and paperwork and you learned so much from her as she helped you navigate it all.  With her help, you were able to get skilled nursing care in the home so that your parents could stay together and you could work at the shop. 

You’d had a few romantic relationships after Chris, but nothing that ever became too serious.  Chris had set the bar too high, and you’d made your heart too hard. After your parents fell ill, all notions of having a romance died.  Between running your own business, and then helping with the nursing at home, there was no time for affairs of the heart. It was another sacrifice to make, but you were good at those. After all, you’d had practice.

You also learned, first hand, the true meaning of “fairweather friends.” Those girls who had always been around for the fun times, were suddenly too busy to come over and keep you company.  Your life was too real for them. 

Dad lost his battle about two years ago.  The loss was devastating to you and your mom, but also a blessing in many ways.  The man you’d both known had been gone for a long time because of his Alzheimer’s.  It was stressful to live with, but even more heartbreaking to watch. You wouldn’t wish it on anyone, not even your worst enemy.

The grief and pain of losing her husband seemed to have an adverse effect on your mother.  Even though she wasn’t alone, as your dad slowly disappeared she was never quite the same. She lost some of the fight within her and her symptoms increased.  Her condition worsened. Pain and rigidity from the Parkinsons, multiple hospitalizations from the others. A deep depression took hold. All the meds in the world can’t help when the patient has lost their will to live. 

Chris had reached out to give his condolences when your father passed. His family had attended the funeral service, but Chris had been out of the country filming and couldn’t make it.  He had sent flowers and called you. The conversation had been awkward at first. After so many years, it was difficult to know where to start. As usual, laughter proved to be the best medicine.  

A few minutes into the call there had been a lull.  Chris had broke it by asking, “Hey, do you remember that time we went to play tennis with your parents?”

“Yeah, but we went a few times, didn’t we?  It was kind of our ‘thing’ that Spring.”

“True, but I’m thinking of one time in particular. When your dad kept whacking balls at my ass every time I turned around to retrieve one off the court.”

You had broken out into loud laughter as the memory came back in vivid colors.  

It had felt great to speak with him again, you’d forgotten just how much you’d enjoyed it, how funny he was. Once the ice had broken, it was like a dam had opened.  The conversation had gone on for hours as you'd both reminisced about your times together, and had caught up on your lives since. The one topic that hadn't been brought up was your last night together.  Neither one of you had wanted to touch that ticking time bomb. 

A few weeks after you had buried your father, Chris had surprised you with a visit to the house, to see you and your mom.  It had been the first time you’d seen each other in the flesh since that last date. He had looked absolutely incredible. You, well, you had looked like a rag, but you hadn't exactly been expecting to impress anyone.  

You had been home with your mom that day because the nurse had the day off.  He and your mom had always gotten along wonderfully, and you'd seen how much him being there brightened her, so you'd invited him to stay for dinner.   It had been forever since the last time you’d seen her light up and smile the way she did when Chris was speaking with her. It was the first time she, or you, had smiled since you'd lost your dad.

There had been much reminiscing and catching up on the years that had passed.  She had always adored him, and he’d felt the same about your parents. Trust your mom to bring up how she'd always believed the two of you would end up married someday.  Your mom was an unstoppable force. She'd gone on to say how she had even chosen the perfect flowers for your bouquet. It had made for a lot of squirming and nervous laughter, embarrassed and flustered glances at each other.  You'd felt like a little kid again, like the time your parents had sat you down to have “the talk” when you’d started to date Chris, and they could see it was getting serious. 

You hadn't mentioned it, but you’d had a conversation with your dad years ago where he'd told you that he’d always felt that the two of you would make up and end up together.  It had been one night after he’d seen Lisa at the grocery store. You’d always wondered what had brought that topic to his mind. 

God bless your mother, her chatter had helped to make the first face to face meeting go smoothly, rather than be a disaster.  Land mines had been averted and the night had been a success. Enough time had passed that you were both able to agree to move on from the past and start fresh as friends.

Although you and Chris didn’t see each other often, after that, you did chat a lot via text and calls. It was great to have him back in your life.  The connection you’d shared was still there. Even as just friends, he helped to make you feel alive again. He helped make some rough nights easier, seeming to have a sixth sense of when you needed that proverbial shoulder to cry on.  His family was thrilled, to say the least, that you guys had mended your fences. 

You were his sounding board as well.  When you had both been young, he would often turn to you for help with his anxiety.  He could be his own worst enemy. As his career began to take off and he lost some of his anonymity, a lot of old insecurities rose to the surface.  He began to turn to you more and more, and you to him. Having someone to just release your own burdens to was a game changer for your stress levels. 

Although nothing romantic was going on, there were nights -- usually involving a glass of wine in your hand and a beer in his -- when you talked about your old days together.  You were each others first for many things, and would always be special to one another because of those moments. 

While texting one night, Chris admitted how he had always thought about what might have been, if things had gone differently. 

If only you hadn’t fallen out of love with him.  

You had to bite your tongue hard, and take a long swig of wine to avoid your fingers typing out what was going through your brain.  To avoid telling him that you’d actually never truly stopped. 

Your heart pined for him, your body yearned for his, and you were truly grateful that the conversation wasn’t taking place over a phone call or in person.  It was hard enough to control the shaking in your hands in order to text. You’d never be able to hide it if it was any other way. 

Your answer to him was simple. Focus on the future because you can’t change the past. 

Besides, what good would telling him the truth do? What would that information do now?  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration song for this chapter: "I Go Crazy" by Paul Davis


	3. Hello

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warning for possible triggers: death of parent (mother), alcohol use, language, angst

**2011**

 

They say timing is everything.  They also say that things happen for a reason.  Well, you didn’t know who the hell “they” were, but “they” certainly seemed to know what they were talking about.

Around seven months after that surprise dinner with Chris and your mom, she took her last breaths. Looking back, it was almost as if fate had been setting things into motion to help you be prepared to deal with it.  Chris reaching out to you after your dad died, then coming over for dinner and healing some open wounds with the help of your mother. If he hadn’t become one of your closest friends and supporters, again, you would likely have lost your mind when it happened.  The nurse and doctor had both warned you that it was a matter of days, but you still hadn't been prepared for it when she died. No one ever truly is. 

Mom had passed peacefully on a sunny morning, with you by her side.  Once you had some time to process, the daunting task of preparations needed to begin.  You started by making some calls to alert loved ones and friends, and making an appointment with the local funeral home for that afternoon.  You called the shop and told your employees what happened and that you wouldn’t be in for a few days. More than likely, you’d end up closing it for a day or two because you knew your staff would want to attend the funeral. 

Chris was out of town the morning that it happened.  You left him a voicemail and reached out to advise his family of the sad news. His mom and sisters came right over. They stayed by your side throughout the day as you worked on making calls and arrangements. You kept the grief at bay and focused on the tasks at hand, soldiering on.  If you stopped moving, you would have time to think. Thinking was a dangerous thing.

By the time night fell, you were utterly exhausted and barely functioning.  They made you leave the house and took you to theirs. Lisa wouldn’t hear of you spending the evening alone in the house where you’d just lost your mother that morning.  You protested at first, but the relief of being cared for won out and you went along with her request. Shanna stayed with you as you packed an overnight bag and then you drove to their home.

Chris surprised you all when he walked in about an hour after you arrived at her home.  It turned out that he'd hopped on the first flight he could take home from California. He swept you up into a tight embrace and quieted your concerns, saying that he wasn’t needed on set anywhere and wanted to be with you.  All of the kindness and caring, and now Chris, took you by surprise and you were suddenly overwhelmed and broke out into sobs. You felt loved, you felt supported, you felt whole in his arms and with this family. Once the floodgates opened, it was difficult to stop, but eventually you did run out of tears and energy to cry any longer. 

Everyone sat with you around the kitchen table and lent their support while you finally talked about your loss.  Lisa had ordered some delivery for dinner and you forced some food down, under her watchful eye. You had no real appetite for food, though. What you really wanted was liquor. You felt like drinking until you couldn’t think about things anymore.  Until the pain stopped. 

Luckily, they had booze on hand and were more than willing to accommodate your request for it.  Lisa went upstairs to set up Scott’s old room for you. He was now living in California full time and wasn’t going to be home any time soon. He was working on a tv show and couldn’t get out of it to come home, but he sent his love and condolences. 

The siblings all took you downstairs to the basement, which was set up like family room. An entertainment center, table and chairs were all in place, along with multiple couches.  Carly and Chris had each grabbed some bottles, Shanna had grabbed some glasses and snacks. Someone got the music playing and then drinks began to pour. 

You started to feel a buzz, but you wanted more than that so you started pouring shots.  A couple of those did the trick, and you went from pleasantly buzzed to easily amused, and slightly numb to the pain in your heart.  The silliest thing could make you giggle and the conversation had you all roaring with hysterics at times. The alcohol allowed you to compartmentalize.  You sang along, played drinking game after drinking game, putting out of your mind that today was one of the worst days of your life. 

The alcohol had worked it’s magic on everyone.  You, in particular, were feeling no pain and enjoying the feeling of being loose and irresponsible.  It had been years since you’d been able to have fun like this. Years since you’d been able to spend time with people your age, people you could trust,  Your twenties were supposed to be a time a explore new things, party and have fun. You’d never gotten the chance to do that. There was always a parent that needed you, or the business that needed you.  Tonight, for the first time in forever, there was nothing to worry about.

After one particularly raucous round of laughter, Carly, Chris’s older sister, placed an arm around your shoulders and planted a big smooch upon your cheek. “I forgot how much fun this is!” she said.  “This reminds me of last time we got drunk together. When was that? 2000, 2001?”

“Oh my god, it does, doesn’t it? After that disastrous blind date, right?” Shanna chimed in, clinking glasses with you both as you laughed giddly. 

“I guess making me forget my sorrows with booze is now officially your job, ladies,” you quipped, raising your glass as a toast to them. 

Shanna was about to say something else when Chris suddenly exclaimed from across the table his voice growing louder with each word. “Wait a minute! Did you just say you guys were all drinking together after I left?  You were having a grand old time with the woman that had destroyed me and set fire to my fuckin’ heart?!”

Defensively, Shanna explained, “It was at least a year after that, Chris.” 

Chris dropped his head back and gave a dramatic eye roll.  “Oh, well that just makes it all better, now doesn’t it. You know what I was doing a year later? Still trying to find a way to trust another woman. Because women are fucking crazy.”

Carly stepped in and waved her hand towards him, dismissively.  “Oh please, spare us the drama. Men are no cakewalk to deal with and you were enjoying yourself quite a bit out there from what I can remember.”

“What was I supposed to do?” he sneered at her, “Live with my left hand and the memories of a woman who went all Jekyll and Hyde on me one night.” He turned his attention towards you and you needed to look at your hands as he stared you down.  “A woman who couldn’t even find the balls to talk to me after? Who didn’t have the decency to explain herself or tell me what I did to deserve it?” 

Chris stopped talking long enough to take pour himself another shot and down it.  Once he swallowed it, he muttered, passive aggressively, “What kind of woman even does that?”

A soft singing of “Uh oh,” came from Shanna, but Carly sat back in her chair and slammed her hand on the table.  “The kind that get shit done, little brother.” You were frozen in place, eyes avoiding everyone, hoping that it made you invisible.  

Confusion and anger were strong in Chris’s voice as he snapped back, “And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Carly leaned forward, brushing your hand away as you tried to stop her.  They glared at each other as she informed him, “She did what she had to do to push you out of the nest.  Lord knows how long you would have dragged your feet if she hadn’t burned your safety blanket.”

He looked straight at you now, then glanced at his sisters before turning his attention back your way. Lost, he asked you directly, “I don’t understand. What is she talking about?”

You were squirming under the laser focus of his eyes and unable to speak.  Instead, you took another long swig of your drink and then kept your gaze trained on on the bottle as you meticulously peeled off strips of the label.   Your avoidance to his question, apparently, started to string some pieces together for him. 

“What did you do?” he asked you.  Chris was bracing his hands along the edge of the table.  When you looked at his fingers, you could see they were turning white from the pressure he was exuding upon them.  With a bang of his fist on the table, he shouted, “Answer me!!” The sound broke you out of your trance. A vein was pulsing in his forehead.  His face was red from the anger, his nostrils flaring as he tried to control his breathing. 

Now you were the one who was pissed.  No one spoke to you with that tone of voice and got away with it.  Especially now when your filter was gone.

“Fine!” You shouted back, in a voice just as loud and angry as the one he used on you.  “You wanna know the truth? The truth is that as long as you had a skirt to hide behind you were NEVER going to get out of your safe little comfort zone and follow your dreams, so I put on a pair of pants.”

Chris finally saw the full picture and could only sit there in shock.  There was no stopping the truth train now that it had left the station.  You lowered your voice, but didn’t take the venom out of your tone. “Your mom was trying so hard to get you to leave, but you wouldn’t go!  She said that you told her the summer before had been so hard on you because of me. That you kept telling her you didn’t think you could do the long distance thing all the time. So I made the tough decision for you. Problem solved.”

He glowered at you.  “You said you didn’t love me anymore! That you were breaking up with me because you didn’t love me anymore!” 

“I LIED!!” you screamed, before lowering your voice to almost a whisper as you confessed, “I lied. ”

Chris was dumbfounded, his eyes searching your face for answers that you had no idea if you were giving him or not. 

“You lied?” He stated flatly.  Chris’s hands went into his hair, then passed over his face as he groaned, “Do you have any idea what that fucking lie did to me?  How fucking distraught I was over it? How much doubt and confusion I lived with afterwards?” 

Chris’s voice grew louder and stronger, sounding accusatory.  His fingers were once again pressed into the table top so hard that they were turning white as he continued, “Can you even begin to fathom how depressed I was in a strange city, all alone, having just gotten dumped by the woman I loved?  Spending my nights trying to figure out how I didn’t see it? How I could have been so god damn blind to you hating me like that?”

The truth was, you hadn’t thought about that. And now you felt like a complete asshole for never bothering to see things from his side.  You'd ignored him and his feelings after the breakup, too busy feeling pity for yourself when it all went down.

Shanna piped in, “Chris, stop yelling at her! She was only trying to protect you, to help you.”

Chris sneered at his little sister, “No, you don’t get to tell me how to feel, Shanna. This is between me and her,” he said, pointing between the two of you.   He turned his attention back to you and narrowed his eyes, his jaw tight. “I just don’t understand how you claim to love someone and then just flip it off like that and be so heartless.”

“Heartless?” you repeated, sarcastically, leaning forward in your chair as you clutched your chest and said, earnestly, “Chris, you were the love of my life! I’ve never loved anyone else the way that I loved you. Not before, not after.”  You let your body fall back and shrugged your shoulders, adding, “But it was better that I break my own heart, than let you do it for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I mean, that I broke up with you to force your hand, but I also did it because I knew it was inevitable once you left.  It was hard to be alone for three months, but we got to see each other every couple of weeks because we weren’t too far away.  That wasn’t going to be the case on opposite coasts.”

“We could’ve made it work, somehow.”

“How? It’s not like either of us had the money to hop on a plane all the time.  Besides, how long was it going to be before you started to mingle? You’re a good looking guy, confident, and back then you had the libido of a rabbit.  How long were you going to be able to keep it in your pants, Christopher?”

He didn’t respond with words.  Instead, he sat there with his arms crossed, his head giving little shakes of disapproval at the accusations.  

Wanting to hammer in your point, you lowered your voice and spat out at him,  “You think I wanted to be all the way across the country worrying about who was in your bed?” It came out bitter and you instantly regretted it, but there was no way to take it back.  He reacted to them like he just took a slap to the face. 

Chris got defensive and loud again, his sisters rallied on your side and everyone was talking over each other in a heated debate.  . 

“Hey, hey, HEY!” their mother shouted as she hurried down the stairs and towards the table.  “What the hell is going on down here? I could hear you guys yelling from the second floor!”

“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Chris said, jumping in immediately. in a voice dripping with disdain, he explained, “It turns out that when I was dumped it was because my darling ex here thought I wouldn’t leave unless she took my heart and stomped on it first.  And apparently, my sweet, loving sisters knew all about the heartless plan.”

You watched the two of them and saw Chris go from cocky and indignant to total disillusionment as his mom looked around and pursed her lips, avoiding his eyes. 

“Oh. My. God.  You were in on this, too?  Did everyone know she did this but me?  Did dad know?” 

Lisa nodded slightly, to indicate that he was correct, and then said softly, “She did it for you, dear.  She -”

Snidely, he said, “No, mom, she did it for herself.  She just admitted that much before you came down.” He stared you down and added bitterly, “Apparently, she’s a jealous bitch who thinks I only have one brain and it’s in my dick.”

You started to argue, but stopped when Lisa held out a warning hand to stop you. In a low, clipped voice she chastised him angrily.  “Christopher! This poor girl lost her mother today. I know you’re hurt, but show some restraint and compassion for Christ’s sake. Your drunk, it’s time to keep your fucking mouth shut before you say something else you’ll regret later.  Go to bed.”

He started to open his mouth to reply, but she cut him off with a look and a pointed finger.  She turned and addressed the rest of you.

“Party’s over, you guys have had more than enough for one night.  We’ll deal with this mess in the morning.”

“Yes, mom,” the girls each said, sheepishly.  They quickly cleaned up the bottles from the table, clearing everything into the trash can in the corner.   You had a feeling that no one was looking forward to the breakfast table.

A hand came onto your shoulder and you looked up to find it was Lisa’s. Her eyes were soft and full of remorse. “C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.”

You felt like a ton of bricks had landed upon you.  Hazarding a glance towards Chris, you found him sitting in the chair and chewing on the edge of his thumb.  He was looking down at the floor, and it felt like waves of hatred were coming your way. You swallowed hard and wobbled your way up from the chair, the alcohol and exhaustion hitting you all at once.  

Lisa helped you get your balance, then held onto your arm and helped you navigate your way up the staircase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration song for this chapter is "Hello" by Adele


	4. What Hurts The Most

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter trigger warning: funeral, angst, grief

Chris’s mom guided you up to your room with one hand on your forearm, the other on your back.  You were able to hold it together all the way up to the second floor. You needed the bathroom, so she left you at the door and went across the hall to Scott’s room to get things set up for you. 

As you washed your hands, you made it a point to keep your face down.  Your reflection was the last thing you wanted to see right now because you couldn’t risk seeing eyes full of grief and self loathing.

You skulked your way to Scott’s room, finding Lisa sitting on the foot of the bed as she waited for you. You climbed right in, still wearing the same sweatpants, a t-shirt, and hoodie you’d worn to the house.  The outfit was comfortable and you had zero energy or fucks to give towards finding and putting on your pajamas. 

You laid down on your back, staring at the white ceiling.  Lisa had gotten up to give you room for your legs and she went into full on mothering mode, pulling up the sheets and comforter and tucking you in. You let out a deep sigh, hoping it would relax you, but then Lisa tried to comfort you by saying, “It’s all going to be okay, honey.  I promise.” 

That single act of kindness sent you spiraling back into your grief.  You rolled over towards her, bringing your legs up into a fetal position as your body was wracked with fresh sobs.  She kept apologizing, saying that she didn’t mean to make you cry again, as she reached behind her to the nightstand to grab a box of tissues.  

Lisa placed the box beside your pillow and handed you a handful to help with your tears and runny nose.  She used another handful herself to help you blot your eyes, and then her own. She didn’t speak anymore, simply soothed you by getting as close as she could and holding you.  The mother of four knew exactly what to do when a child needed comfort, even if the child wasn’t her own, and she stroked your hair and your back while making small shushing sounds to further calm you. Eventually, the exhaustion from all the crying tonight took hold and you felt the darkness calling to you, your eyes growing heavy.  

You sank into the abyss of a blissful dreamless sleep.

When you woke up late the next morning, you were alone in the room.  Your eyes were swollen and felt as if they were full of beach sand, and you prayed that somewhere in this house there was a bottle of eye drops.  You’d neglected to brush your teeth before bed and the result was a mouth that tasted like a box of kitty litter. You also had one wicked hangover.  Good going, girl. 

There was a sealed bottle of water on the nightstand and you drank from it greedily, needing the hydration. You exited the room, looking around to see if anyone else was up.  All the doors were open and you could make out voices coming from downstairs. The door to the bathroom was also open, so you made your way to it and cleaned yourself up. Feeling a bit more human, you went back into the bedroom and located your overnight bag on a chair in the corner.  You changed your clothes, slipping into a comfortable pair of yoga pants and a long shirt, and then took a seat in the chair, looking over your phone. There were dozens of text messages and voicemails from people regarding your mom’s service that was being held tomorrow. 

For a moment, tears began to prick your eyes, but you blinked quickly to stop them from falling.  There was no time and this was certainly not the place. The business woman in you kicked into high gear and you managed to put the emotional aspects of the day to the side and focused on what needed to get done.  As you started to try to organize it all in your mind, you realized just how long the list was. You needed to get moving if you were going to tackle it all, so you picked up your bag and went downstairs. 

Following the noise, you made your way to the kitchen to find the family gathered around the table.  As you approached the the doorway, the room suddenly quieted. 

Chris briefly glanced your way, a quick closed lipped smile passing over his lips but it didn't reach his eyes. You tried to smile back but your face just wouldn’t cooperate.  The girls were a little more welcoming, but from the tension that you felt in the air, you had the feeling that the confession from last night had been the hot topic at the table before your arrival.  It made you uncomfortable and you couldn’t wait to get out of this atmosphere. 

Lisa stood up from the table and gestured to an open seat beside her.  As she made her way to the coffee pot, she said, “We already had breakfast, but I’ll make you whatever you want, dear. What can I get for you?” 

You looked around at the others and saw that Chris was very interested in an article on his phone and pointedly not looking at you.  The girls were communicating silently, the way only sisters can. There was no way that you were going to sit down with them all and pretend that things were okay. 

Apologetically, you answered, “Actually, I’ve really got to get going.  I have a laundry list of things that have to get done today and the morning is almost over.”  You couldn’t meet her eyes and, as you looked at the others, you had a sense that they were relieved to hear it.  

She began to protest, but you walked over and gave her a big, tight hug and thanked her for being there yesterday.  Lisa hugged you back and reminded you that she was only a call away. 

Turning towards the table, you said to the siblings, “Thank you all so much for everything.  I couldn’t have gotten through it all without you.” 

The girls rose from their chairs and each hugged you, tears running down all of your cheeks.  As you reached Chris, you had to stop. He looked up at you, but didn’t move. His eyes were hard and the anger was still there.  

Clasping your hands together, you simply said, “I’m sorry, Chris.  Truly, I am.” 

He had no reaction to your words, other than a quick nod and a return to web browsing.  When he’d walked through the door last night, it had sent your heart soaring. He had to feel a connection to you, even just a little, to have come all the way home for you.  Now, it seemed, he hated you. It was like a knife to your gut, but you had to let it go. There were other, more important, things for you to be dealing with today. 

As you walked away from him, Shanna whispered, “He hasn’t spoken a word to anyone.”  

It made you feel a little bit better, but not much.  They were his sisters, he would speak to them eventually.  For you, there was no such promise. You turned one last time towards Chris and saw him glaring her way.  You got his message loud and clear. 

You grabbed your bag and said goodbye one more time as you left their home.  Shanna walked you to your car and shared that Chris had been giving everyone the silent treatment all morning.  You didn’t know if that information was meant to make you feel better or not, but it only left you feeling more guilty. On the way to your house, you stopped for coffee and a quick bite to eat, barely tasting it.  But it was better than nothing.

As soon as you got into your kitchen, you took a pad of paper, and a pen, and made a list of everything that had to get done today. First up was responding back to the calls and text messages.  You also had a few more people to notify. You decided to update the flower shop’s website to announce you were closing it tomorrow and explained why. There were several relatives coming in from out of town that were spending a couple of nights with you.  You set about gathering sheets, blankets, pillows and towels and placed them in the bedrooms and living room. 

There was the looming task of choosing a burial outfit for your mother, as well as what you were going to wear for the next couple of days.  It caused a breakdown that you were hoping to avoid, but you felt better after. The outfits sparked memories of times when she’d worn them for one occasion or another.  Sometimes tears can help you move forward. 

After clearing your list and dropping off some things at the funeral parlor, you went to the flower shop.  The employees were devastated, many having worked for the company since before your parents had retired. Your parents had been more like friends to them that bosses.  They gave you some space to work and you created a special arrangement of white and pink roses to cover your mother’s casket. The employees created one of their own as a tribute for her. You also created a large, heart shaped wreath with red and white roses as a tribute to her from yourself and your father. 

Guests began to arrive at your house shortly after you returned home from the shop and, for the rest of the evening, your mind was too busy catching up with everyone that you barely had the chance to feel anything but love.  All day long, you caught yourself looking at your phone when it buzzed, hoping to see a message from Chris, but it never came. You wished your emotions and heart could be as blank as that screen was.

The service the following day went by in a blur. So many people came, so many members of the community that had been touched by your parent’s over the years.  Other local florists had filled the room with floral tributes to her. After so many years in business, they had earned the respect of many others in their respective field.  

When the Evans family arrived at the funeral home, Chris came straight over to you, his face serious and full of sorrow, and gathered you into his arms. He said nothing.  He didn’t need to. 

It felt so good, so right, to be in his embrace again.  You allowed him to hold you, to comfort you as waves of so many emotions bubbled up and made you cry. You stayed in the safety of his arms for a long time, clinging to him like a life raft.  

God you missed this, you missed the connection you’d always had with him. It was more than just a teenage fancy, there had been true love between you. Honestly, there still was. You’d never really stopped. Chris had been a staple in your dreams ever since. A safe place in your mind to escape the world when you needed to. As long as you didn’t think about the night that you couldn’t take back. 

When he released you, your eyes met.  The anger in his eyes was gone, replaced with remorse.  That was good. That was a step in the right direction. You’d lost your mom and there was no getting her back. Perhaps your friendship with Chris still had a chance at survival.

There was no conversation with Chris that day.  Honestly, the issue with him was the furthest from your mind.  Harsh reality was in front of your eyes every time you looked at the front of the room. He did check in with you, silently, throughout the service.  A raised eyebrow and nod whenever your eyes would meet, making sure you were okay. His family stayed huddled together after the initial greeting to you, but they also checked in periodically.  There wasn’t really time to hold long conversations with anyone. The line to get to you and pay respects and give condolences was long and never ending. 

You spent the rest of that day just going through the motions, all but numb by the time you said your last goodbyes to the visitors at the wake. It was good to see how many people had shown up to pay their respects. How much support was offered to you and to the business. 

It was an exhausting day.  You drove back home, your mother’s brother and his family in tow, and were asleep before your head even hit the pillow. 

The next few days felt like you were walking in a dream, or having some sort of out of body experience. You could see yourself clearly, as if you were watching a movie and not actually living your life. Maybe it was simply your mind’s way of handling the stress of the situation.  Your unique way of processing the actual burial and the subsequent gathering at your home after. 

Family and friends came by and caught up with each other.  They reminisced about your parents over a catered lunch and bottles of wine.  You watched it all, not eating, just making your way from one room to another, one group of visitors to another.  Detachment? Whatever it was, it helped you to avoid having a mental breakdown by turning you into something like a robot until everyone was gone except for your houseguests.

That night, as everyone else lay sleeping, you laid wide awake. The people in the house were quiet, yet you were tortured by the sound of the grandfather clock ticking loudly in the hall and the ghosts of too many memories.  The silence around those tick tocks was deafening. It only helped to hammer in the reminder that you were alone. A 30 year old orphan. No more parents, no siblings. It was sink or swim on your own merit from here on out. 

You were too young for this shit. 

As grief overcame you one more time, you rolled over and sobbed into your pillow, trying your best to shield it from the others in the house.  They were here now, but they rarely bothered with you and your parents before. You didn’t expect much from them in the future, and you certainly didn’t want their pity.  

Your relatives departed the next day, but you weren’t ready to face anyone else just yet.  You turned the shop over to the very capable manager for a couple more days and just slept as much as possible. Dreams became your sanctuary, a place where you could be with your mom and dad again. 

Throughout the days, you looked at the texts and voicemails that came in, simply answering by telling them you were okay to avoid anyone coming over or sending the police in a panic.  You ventured to your door only to get your food deliveries and to grab the abundance of fruit baskets, flower arrangements and various other tokens of sympathy from well meaning people.  

One of the texts you received was from Chris.  Several, actually. The last one was that he had hoped to see you to work through things, but he had to get back to California for a few meetings.  If you needed him for anything he was there for you, and would see you in a few weeks when he could get back home. 

The thought of talking to him about the fight, either of them, scared the crap out of you.  But knowing that he was willing to work through things and wanted to be in your life also brought some light to your darkened heart.  He didn’t hate you, he hadn't cut you off. It gave you hope. 

Hope was enough to help you pull your head out of the sand, put on your big girl panties and start moving on with your life again. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song inspiration for this chapter: "What Hurts The Most" by Rascal Flatts


	5. Here You Come Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> language, sexual discussions

It had been seven weeks since your life had been flipped upside down.  Following your mother’s death, you’d barely had a moment to breathe. You were drowning in bank and legal forms from your mother’s passing, while simultaneously trying to keep up with the day to day needs of running your own company.  

You’d made some huge decisions for yourself that were adding even more strain to your already overburdened mind.

The bell above the front door of the flower shop announced the arrival of a customer.  Just as you’d been trained to do since you were a little girl, you put on a smile and called out a greeting as you put down the arrangement you were working on to go and offer some assistance.  Normally, there were two of you, but your employee was out to lunch so you were the jack of all trades for the moment. 

When you reached the front of the store, you saw who the customer was and your body froze like a deer in the headlights.  

“Hey, you,” Chris said softly, a gentle smile playing upon his lips. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he was fidgeting from nerves.  Ever since you’d known him, he had a habit of bouncing on his feet a little when he was uncomfortable or stressed. Sometimes he would even tap dance, but he wasn’t there just yet. 

“Hey yourself,” you said, just as quietly, finally getting air back into your lungs. 

Chris looked around, his eyes wide as he took in the shop. “Wow! This place looks a lot bigger than I remember it.”

Small talk.  Small talk was good, avoid the elephant in the room. You could do this.  Brushing a hand through your hair, you confirmed, “Yeah, that’s cause it is.  I expanded the shop when I took over.”

“Really?” he asked, his face showing that he was impressed as he started to walk around and take in the rest of the showroom.

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of competition out there now.”  Proudly, you shared, “I wanted to make it more than just flowers.  I added a gift and party planning section, and I learned how to make those custom fruit arrangements so we could increase our market share.”   

The more you spoke, the more your confidence level grew. He wasn’t the only one that had accomplished his goals, after all.  Business had boomed once your parents had given you a chance to manage and modernize the place. 

Chris had been watching you with an odd look in his eye, an expression you couldn’t quite grasp the meaning of. His eyes were soft, a trace of a smile played upon his closed lips.  You felt like you were under a microscope and yet, at the same time, like you were basking in some sort of golden glow. Finally, you asked him, “What? What’s that look about?”

His smile grew a little, an “aw shucks” look coming over his face.  His voice was gentle as he said, “I was just admiring the woman you’ve become.  You did it, Bee. I remember us talking about this, your visions for this place.”

Bee? You hadn’t heard that nickname since high school.  He had called you that the night you shared your first kiss.  You were sitting beside each other and he gave you the pet name and told you it was because bees loved flowers as much as you did, and you were always buzzing around inside his brain.  How he couldn’t stop thinking about you. There had been a moment of eye connection and then you both leaned forward and touched lips. 

Hearing it now, on top of his nostalgia, brought back a flood of memories.  Many were wonderful, but all were somehow tinged with regrets of what might have been. Still, it felt so right.  You watched his face, trying to determine if his use of it had been a mistake or intentional. From the way he quirked his brow and smiled at you, puzzled, you knew it was an automatic thing for him.  

You lowered your face to hide the smile that girlish smile that threatened to emerge.

The phone ringing broke you out of your reverie and you excused yourself to move around to the back of the counter to answer it. Saved by the bell. 

Chris followed you, waiting on the other side with arms resting upon the granite top. He was fidgety again.  As you spoke to your client, Chris swiped a pen off the counter and began clicking the top of it. Pen open, pen closed.  His face seemed distracted and pensive. 

The call was from a regular client who bought your centerpieces for events at her catering hall.  This was going to take a while, and the clicking from the pen was driving you crazy, so you asked, “Mrs. Barber, would you mind if I place you on a brief hold while I pull up your file?  Thank you.”

Once she was on hold, you opened her file on the computer and apologized to Chris.  “I’’m sorry, but I have to take this. Was there something you needed?” you asked, still not sure why he had come in.

“Actually, I was hoping we could talk.”  He paused and then said, sounding a bit anxious, “I know now is not a good time, but are you free for dinner tonight?”

You heart was pounding in your chest, both at the prospect of what that “talk” would entail and at the thought of spending time alone with him, especially after the way the last conversation at his mom’s had gone down.  

Shaking your head with disappointment, you said apologetically, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“Oh, I see,” he said, his face falling at the rejection.  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you added quickly, “it’s just that I’m moving soon and I’ve been spending every spare minute trying to finish packing and going through the house.”  

“You’re moving?” he asked in surprise.

You nodded, “Yeah, and I have a girl on vacation until the middle of next week so I can’t take any time off to get ready.  It all has to get done at night and I’m so far behind,” you lamented, the stress coming out through your voice even as you tried to hide it. “Listen, I’m sorry, but I really need to get back to this call, she’s a big client.  Raincheck?”

“Sure, I guess.”  His shoulders slumped, but then his body perked up and he said in a rush of words before you could press the button to pick up the call again, “Wait, can I bring dinner to you?  Maybe I can help you pack? I have no plans.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the offer.  He seemed so eager and genuine about it. There was no way you could refuse him. Not with those puppy dog eyes and boyish look on his face.  With a nod towards him, you answered your customer and silently mouthed details with Chris for the time and cuisine. 

After whispering your goodbye, you watched as he made his way to the door. Chris was practically dancing, his hips and shoulders grooving to a song only he could hear.  The bell rang to announce his departure, and he turned to you with an adorable wave -- you’d forgotten how he flapped his hand bye-bye like a little kid -- and a sweet smile.  

It was hard to concentrate when he was being irresistible.  You hated how much power he still had over you. 

Later in the day, your employee remarked on how much she loved to hear you singing and smiling again.  It had been a while since she’d seen that side of you. She had been out to lunch when Chris had left and you’d kept his visit a secret.

Chris arrived promptly at six bearing several containers of Chinese takeout. You’d gotten home about a half hour earlier and had already started boxing up items from the kitchen that you could live without for a week or so. 

After you let him in, you led the way through the maze of boxes piling up and into the kitchen.   “Some fine china for you, my dear,” you said as you pulled out a couple of paper plates and handed them to him.  The real dishes were already packed up. 

Chris placed the items on the small, round kitchen table while you got some cold drinks from the fridge.  He was already opening the tops of the containers when you sat down and you both dived into the food, splitting up and sharing everything. At first there was just small talk, just two friends casually catching up on the weather and your jobs. 

Then you felt a shift in him.  A smirk came over his lips and there was a little glint in his eye as he said,  “Y’know, being here alone with you is bringing back some memories.”

“Oh?” you asked, intrigued.  The pitch of his voice was different now, it was deeper.  Your body was responding to his vibe and it completely caught you off guard. 

“Mmm hmm,” he said, a naughty little boy smile now on display.  “Remember that time your parents went away for that conference? And they left you home alone so that you wouldn’t miss school.”

Remember?  How could you ever forget! You had both been 17 and crazy about each other.  You'd been lucky to walk straight by the time school had started every morning. Your heart began to race as the memories of your times with Chris blasted your mind. 

Not wanting to let on how much he was affecting you, you played it cool and just a little flirty.  “I remember that I wasn’t supposed to have anyone over for those three days.” 

“So naturally you shacked up with your boyfriend,” he joked and you both broke out into laughter.  He grabbed his left pec, a move that always made you lose it even harder, and his other hand slapped you on the thigh.  

When you composed yourself again, you smiled warmly and felt so much more at ease. “Your mom has always been the coolest woman I have ever known,” you said.   She had known about your parents being away and also knew that Chris was staying over. Lisa had never said a word to your folks. 

“She really is the best,” he agreed, “She didn’t like the idea of you being here all by yourself.  As long as you didn’t end up pregnant by the time they got back she was good with it.”

“Oh my god, they would have KILLED me!”  you groaned, inciting another round of laughter.  You both took a few more bites of food, then you added quietly, “I loved playing ‘house’ with you those days.  Not having to say goodbye at night. Waking up with you in the morning.” Making that confession was tough, knowing the past wasn’t without landmines.  It made you a bit nervous and you started to push your food around instead of eating, not knowing how it would be received. 

He touched your arm and your eyes raised to meet his. “It was amazing, Bee. Although I had the hardest time looking your parents in the eyes for a while after,” he said, snickering to himself. 

“That was when I realized I had a lot to learn about cooking,” you snickered.   “Remember that night I tried to make Pasta Carbonara from scratch and it took -”

“Two hours!” you said together, a fresh wave of laughter in the room.

Still laughing, you confessed, “I’ve gotten a little bit better at cooking, but not much.  It still takes me forever to make a full meal.”

“It was delicious and well worth the wait.”  He paused and his head cocked to the side as he looked your way, catching your eye. “Most good things are.”

The way he said that last part made you flush and you grabbed for your drink to cool down. 

“Was there a room in this house that we didn’t christen over those three days?” he asked, looking around at the counter and at the view of the other rooms afforded by the open floor plan.  His brow rose as naughty thoughts went through his mind, it was something he’d done since he was young. The brow always gave him away. 

You thought you were going to spontaneously combust from the heat his words were causing in your body.  You hadn’t felt the touch of a man in a very long time and your body could recall the way his fingers felt on your skin like it was happening this instant.  Thinking back to those days of intense teenage love were like uncapping a time capsule of lust. 

Clearing your throat, you confirmed, “Nope, I don’t think there was.  If I recall correctly, even the garage wasn’t spared.”

“Oh man!” he said with a giggle, leaning forward, “I almost forgot about that! Your dad’s old convertible in there!!”

You nodded and added, “When you followed me out into the garage to get ice cream from the freezer in there.”

“We never did get it, did we?” he said boastfully. 

“We got a much better dessert.  And it burned calories to boot!”

He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“Remember when you ran into your parent’s room to answer the phone because you couldn’t find the cordless one?”

“And you decided that was as good a time as any to eat me out?”

“And you had to stifle your moans and work them into your conversation with them.”

“I still don’t know how I pulled that off,” you said with a shake of your head.  “Thank god it was a two line business phone with a mute button or they for sure would have picked up that their daughter was on the brink of an orgasm for the entire call.”  Your face was beat red as you buried it in your hands in embarrassment. 

Chris gave you a closed lipped smile and then said, “We sure were good together.”

With a sigh, you admitted, “We really were.  I miss those days.” 

The truth was, you’d never been with anyone else that made you feel half as free and as whole as Chris had. 

The sparks were definitely still there.  The thick air between you proved it. You both retreated into your own reminiscing after that and continued eating your dinners.  It occurred to you then that those years with Chris, even though you guys were so young, were some of the best years of your life.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspiration song for this chapter was "Here You Come Again" by Dolly Parton


	6. Against All Odds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: angst

After dinner, you took Chris on a quick tour through the house and showed him what you’d packed and what still needed to be done.  

He asked about the piles of bags in one of the rooms.  When you informed him that they were all clothing donations from your parent’s closets, and your own, that needed to be brought to the local shelter, he volunteered to help with them.  The two of you carried out as many as would fit in his trunk and back seat. He promised to take them in the morning and to grab another load tomorrow. 

Having someone around with muscle -- and boy did he have a lot these days -- was not something you were going to let go to waste.  You put him to work for the next hour and then stopped for the night. As much as you wanted to keep working, you had to be up early in the morning to open the shop and had a long day ahead.  

Not yet ready to say goodbye to Chris, you offered a snack.  He poured out a couple of glasses of milk while you pulled out a bag of Oreos as a reward for all of the hard work.  With a delighted smile, you watched as he twisted them apart and ate them one half at a time, licking the cream off before eating the chocolate, just like he had when you were kids in this very kitchen.  You were the opposite, a dunker, and happily dipped your full cookie into the cool, white milk before taking your bite. 

When you pointed out the cookie eating styles to him, it sparked another round of reminiscing about the old days, although this one a lot more innocent in nature.  

Shaking his head as he looked around, Chris said, “I still can’t believe you’re selling this place.  Why would you want to give up your childhood home?” 

Just like that, you lost your smile.  How could you make him understand the prison this home felt like to you?  Taking care of someone else, especially the needs of terminally ill parents, wasn’t something he’d ever had to deal with -- and hopefully would never have to.  You stopped eating cookies and finished your milk, using it as a moment to formulate your thoughts. 

Finally, you were ready to explain in a way that he would understand. 

“This place is my home, and always will be.  But there are too many ghosts here now. My parents started to get sick about six years ago.  For the last five, I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. I’ve been running a business and nursing sick parents nearly full time when I wasn’t at the shop.”  You let out a big sigh, emotional exhaustion adding to the physical exhaustion you felt. Quietly, you added, “I haven’t had a day without worry, or a night that I could sleep without waking at every single noise in the house.”

“Why?” he asked, leaning forward and giving you his undivided attention, no longer interested in eating.

“Because my dad would wander,” you explained, your voice rising as you told him, “If I didn’t hear him pass by my door, then he would be outside.  He didn’t care if the alarm went off. Or he’d go into the kitchen to make a snack with some warm milk, and then forget what he was doing and turn away, leaving the gas burners on.  I still hear his footsteps creak past my door every single night and the man has been gone for over two years.”

“I’m so sorry, Bee.  I didn’t know,” Chris said, leaning forward to take your hand and hold it in his own to comfort you. His voice and his eyes were filled with such empathy that it broke your ability to hold it all in.  You’d never truly talked to anyone about your feelings about your parents, fearful they would think you a monster, but you couldn’t stop your words now even if you tried. 

You placed your other hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze.  Looking at the ceiling as you spoke, you said, in a strained voice, “Dad was tough to deal with.  I wouldn’t wish Alzheimer’s on my worst enemy. I eventually had to hire night time nurses because I wasn’t sleeping.”

“That’s totally understandable.  You have the business to run, it can’t be easy to be dealing with that all night and then have that responsibility all day.”

Nodding in agreement, your eyes now closed, you said, “It’s not. Or, wasn’t, I suppose is the right term now?” You stated and asked at the same time, ,as you realized all that trouble was in the past. Dropping your face down to look towards him, you explained, “With mom, it was a lot of heartbreak more than worry. You remember how active she was? How much she loved to garden and go for long walks? She loved taking care of their home.  For the last two years she wasn’t able to get out of a wheelchair. Her mind was fine, but her body shut down. It was frustrating as hell for her to live with.”

Chris was shaking his head from side to side, his eyes showing the sadness he felt as he thought of her. “God, that had to be terrible.  I do remember, she always had a lot of life to her.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you told him, “It’s for the best that she’s gone, even though I miss her terribly.  It’s best for both of them. It was no life for them at the end. The pain, the frustration, the inability, and indignity, of not being able to take care of themselves.  No one should have to live that way.”

You needed a tissue, so you broke the contact of your hands and got up to swipe one from a box on the counter.  Chris was slumped back in the chair, leaning back so it balanced on the rear two legs. A memory flashed through your brain of your mom yelling at him for doing that.  She was always worried he would break the chair. 

As if the memory occurred to him too, he dropped the chair back down and ran his hand over the surface of the table, lost in thought.  “You’re right. It’s a terrible way to end up, but I’m so glad that you were able to be here with them. I’m sure they appreciated that so much.”

You blew your nose and grabbed another tissue to hold onto.  As you returned to your seat, you said, “Oh, me too! Believe me, me, too.  I’ll be forever grateful that I had the opportunity to take care of them.” You smiled a bit to yourself and added, “I’m glad I was able to keep them together and make sure they felt loved every single day.”

This was where it got tricky, but you had to say it.  Needed another human soul to hear your confession. If he hated your for it, so be it. 

You braced yourself.  After a deep breath, you looked at the table, unable to meet his eyes, and admitted,  “This is going to make me sound like the most heartless, biggest asshole in the world, but my mom passing away was a relief for her, but for me, too.” You hazarded a glance towards him and then waved your hand in defense when you saw his brow arch.  “Don’t get me wrong, I miss her so much -- and I’d do anything for another day with either of them -- but for the first time in almost six years I can breathe.” You said the last part while clutching your chest, shoulders hunched inward. In an odd twist, your body was doing the opposite of your words.

You were surprised to feel his hand taking yours and pulling it out of the clenched fist it was in.  His thumb stroked over your skin and he said, softly, “I can’t begin to fathom the amount of stress you’ve lived with all these years.”

His compassion finished breaking down your walls and you sobbed, as you continued expressing things that had been locked away for so long. 

“I haven’t had a day off since they became ill.  No vacations, no personal life. If I wasn’t at work, then I was here and taking care of the house or my parents.  It’s been a constant state of worry and, at times, backbreaking physical care. For the first time in forever I’m free to make my own choices.”

Chris let go of your hand and ran his own through his hair, as he blew out a strong breath and let out a whistle.  “Damn, Bee, I’m so sorry. I wish I could’ve been there to help you, even if just for moral support, y’know? My pride just wouldn’t let me.”

You simply nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.  

He dropped his head forward for a moment and said softly, “I’m sorry, too, that I was such a shithead and didn’t contact you more these last few weeks.  I was keeping tabs on you through my mom, but I should have done more for you. I was just so angry,” he said, looking off to the corner. 

“Stop.  You have nothing to apologize for and every single reason in the world to be pissed at me.”  With a defeated shrug of your shoulders, you said, “I just wish you had found out under better circumstances.”

Now he was the one nodding as he said, gravely, “Yeah.  We need to have a talk about that whole mess one day. But-” 

“Not today!” you both said in unison, making you both chuckle and shifting the mood. 

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Chris said, “So what have you decided on? Where are you moving to? An apartment?”

You propped your elbow on the table and rested your cheek in it as you explained, “No.  Definitely not that. After all these years of sleeping with my ears perked up for sounds I don’t want to hear anything but my own sounds. I bought a small house.  Just one floor, two bedrooms. Manageable size, not far from the shop. I just can’t stay here anymore.” Talking about details instead of feelings instantly allowed you to relax. 

“When do you move in?”

“Twelve days. I get the keys in ten, have a cleaning lady going in to give it a proper scrub down the day after, then the movers do their thing.”

“I’m free to help any time you need me here.”

“You bring the muscle, I’ll buy the food and beer.”

He raised his arms up and popped his biceps, making sounds like guns being shot.  You doubled over in laughter at the ridiculous move, resting your arms on the table and your face on top of them. Your laugh was infectious and he joined you, his hand coming to rest upon your back. Once you’d both regained control, your eyes met, a longing look exchanged, and then your shy smiles matched, too.  

A text message on his phone came through, breaking the moment.  You were grateful for the interruption, unsure of how much more your heart and mind could handle tonight.  Knowing that it was getting late, you stood up while he responded, signaling the end of the night. He took the hint and followed suit, following you to the door as you thanked him for his help.  After a hug you just wanted to melt into, and a quick kiss on the cheek, he said goodnight and offered to come back the next night. Happily, you took him up on it. 

As promised, Chris returned the next night.  He kept coming back almost every night after, as well.  By the beginning of the next week, he had also begun bringing you lunch to the shop. 

It felt like old times.   It also felt damn good to be taken care of for once in your adult life. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song inspiration for this chapter: "Against All Odds" by Phil Collins


	7. After All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter warnings: angst, language, sexual situations

On the day of the move, Chris arrived by early afternoon  There wasn’t a lot that was coming with you since you’d downsized, and the three man crew was making fast work of getting the furniture and boxes into your new home. 

He took food orders for yourself, and the guys, and brought back some sandwiches and cold drinks for everyone.  With all the craziness, you really didn’t have anything in the house to offer them and it was a welcome treat for them and for you. His thoughtfulness always astonished you.  His mother had raised a very thoughtful son. 

After everyone took their lunch break, using whatever available surface they could find for tables, the job was completed in less than two hours. You tipped the men and sent them on their way with your thanks.

Chris plopped down on the sofa, picked up the remote and got absolutely nothing. 

“There’s something wrong with your tv,” he said perturbed.

“No shit, Sherlock.” you said, lightly smacking him in the head as you passed behind him on the way to another box.  Annoyance and aggravation were in both your voice and your face as you growled, “There’s nothing wrong with my TV, there’s just something wrong with the fucks  over at the cable company. Someone screwed up my appointment today and now I have no internet or television for the next three days!” Your blood was still boiling over it, but you had been gracious to the rep on the phone.  It wasn’t her fault. It didn’t make it any less frustrating, though.

“Well that just fuckin’ sucks! What are you supposed to do tonight?”

“Umm, unpack? Diddle myself?” You said as seriously as you could, shrugging your shoulders and raising your eyebrows. With a sigh, you ended, “The possibilities are endless.”

He was caught off guard by your joke and dropped his head back in laughter.   God you loved that sound so much. Spending so much time together lately had made things a lot much better in your heart.  It was all friendly flirting, nothing more, although you couldn’t help but wish it was. And there was still the talk to have.  You both seemed to be avoiding it, but there wasn’t much else to do tonight. Maybe clearing the air would bring the closure you both needed to that particular wound. 

Chris got off the sofa and began to help you unpack boxes with items you’d need over the next few days. When those were done, you went into your bedroom to make your bed and unpack some clothes, while he ran out to grab some pizza and beers for dinner.  

Not wanting to bother with any major clean up, you drank from the bottles and ate the pizza right out of the box.  Since the kitchen table was covered in bags and boxes, you set up the meal on the ottoman and sat on the sofa to eat. 

In between bites, you told him, “In case I haven’t told you, thank you for everything.  You’ve been such a great help to me these last couple of weeks.”

He lifted his beer and tipped it towards you, “You have, and you’re very welcome.  It’s not like I haven’t been enjoying the company.”

You smiled at each other, then kept munching away.  When you finished your second slice, you took a napkin from the pile he’d grabbed at the pizzeria and wiped your fingers, watching as he took a third.  Two was your limit. You shifted so that you were facing him while lounging on the sofa.

The past still hung heavy over your heads and it had to be dealt with.  You’d grown quite close since he’d first come back into the shop to offer the olive branch, but the knowledge of what happened in the past, and the fact that it hadn’t been addressed, was always lingering over you.  The idea that you guys could ever be spending time like this again was something you’d never considered as a possibility. You were so grateful to have him back in your life. You only hoped that you could avoid screwing things up again. 

You watched him as he finished off his last piece and took a long swig from his beer bottle.  He kept one eye open as he drank and kept it trained on you. When he put the now drained bottle down on the coffee table beside the couch, he mimicked your body posture and simply said, “Sup?”

“I was thinking maybe it’s time we finally have that talk,” you said, looking down while you said it, but meeting his eyes in the end. 

“Well, there’s no TV so I guess it’s as good a time as any,” he said jokingly. 

The fact that he could even make a joke about it set you at ease.  His anger had dissipated since that night in his mom’s basement.

“I want to start off by apologizing to you, Chris.  You didn’t deserve the way I handled things back then, or more recently.”

He pursed his lips together and nodded, then said.  “You’re right. I didn’t.”

“I’d take it back if I could,” you added quickly, before saying in a softer and sadder voice,  “I’d take it all back. The only thing that has ever made me feel better about it is the thought that we eventually would have broken up.”

Hearing that seemed to ruffle his feathers a little, but he didn’t appear to be mad.  His neck straightened and he chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before saying in a clipped tone, “You really think so?”

You shrugged and your hand played with the top of the cushion as you confirmed, “Yeah.  We were too young and too far away from each other. It would have fallen apart at some point.”

Things went quiet for a few minutes as you both got lost in your thoughts about things.  Your nerves were tingling, worry setting in that you’d said the wrong thing. Chris was the first to speak.

“I think you need to write a few letters of apology.”

You had been playing with your cuticles as you ruminated, but looked up quickly in surprise when he said that.

Frantically, you asked, “What? Why? To who?”

“To the women I dated for the first year or so when I got to LA.“

Confused, you questioned, “You want me to apologize for making you available to them?”

“No. You should apologize because your actions caused me to be a real dick to them. They were a substitute for you, and I unleashed my rage and anger on them.  They didn’t deserve it, and I feel terrible about it now.”

Hearing those words made you feel like absolute shit.  You knew how he could get when we was in a mood, and you knew how much of sweet mushball he could be when he wasn’t.  Knowing that you were the cause of that drama gave you a sick pit in your belly. Your shoulders dropped and you slumped against the cushions. “How many are we talking about. Three? Four?”

His voice thick with emotion, he shared, “A bit higher than that.  I was single and full of insecurity. The attention made me feel better and the ability to inflict emotional pain made me feel powerful, like I was getting back at all the women for all the men in the world who’s balls had been crushed.”  

By the time he’d finished speaking his voice had lowered and he sounded almost ashamed. You couldn’t help but wonder just what he’d done to these women. 

“Jesus, Chris,” you said in surprise.  You didn’t expect the talk to go smoothly, but you weren’t expecting it to be so frank, either.

“What? I never hit anyone, I made them happy overall, we had a good time.  But I didn't let anyone get close to me. Every time I started to feel something, I would find a reason to get them to break up with me and push them towards it.  Some would come back, probably because they had their own versions of you that they were silently battling.”

The thought of him with other women bristled you and brought a stripe of jealousy up your spine.  But since he’d brought them up, you decided to make a confession of your own. 

Your bodies were facing each other and you both had an arm resting along the top of the couch.  You let your fingers walk over to his and lightly kicked them. It wasn’t something you did consciously, they seemed to be on their own volition.  His decided to play with yours in a little battle. It was a little bit of a tension breaker and it was what you needed to proceed. 

“You know, back then I remember thinking that I was being selfless.  That I was doing it for your benefit. In hindsight, it was as much for me as it was for you.  I was jealous, and I didn’t want to sit here imagining who you were partying with, or making out in a movie with. I couldn’t handle the worry of it all.”

“I’d love to say that it wouldn’t have been a concern, but that would be a lie.  You know how I loved to party back then, and LA is nothing but one party after another,” he admitted, quickly adding with a smirk, “Especially when you’re young and dumb.  I’d like to think that I could have stayed the course but, honestly, I was kinda happy to be single to enjoy it.”

“Do you still enjoy it?” The question was loaded.  You wanted to know if he still enjoyed being free and the life he’d built on the opposite coast. You just didn’t know how to ask the first one, specifically, without sounding needy.  

He ran a hand along the back of his neck, rubbing at it, as his face became thoughtful.  “It’s not really my playground anymore. I’ve grown up. I can see it for what it is now.  That’s why I try to be out here as much as I can. I need my family, my friends. Being here reminds me of what’s real.  When I picture my life and growing older, this is where it all takes place.” 

His hand dropped back down onto the top of the sofa cushion and now he was the one chasing your fingers.  You pulled your hand back with a giggle, returning it tentatively as he kept threatening to grab it. He had an amused smile on his face as he said, in a soft voice, “Y’know, there’s this new studio in Atlanta where a lot of movies are being filmed.  It’s huge. I can be in L.A. less and less and be here more often.”

Your heart was thumping from the both the warmth in his tone and the flirty finger playing going on.  You tried to hide your emotions and said, simply, “I’m happy to hear it.” After all, he had decided to answer the geographical part. 

Apparently, you didn’t have a very good poker face. 

“And if I’m reading your reaction right, the answer to the other question is also a no.  I don’t enjoy the single life anymore. Haven’t for a while, actually.”

Well that was not something you expected to hear.  You didn’t know how to respond, unsure why he told you, so you said nothing.  You were afraid to let yourself hope he was saying it for anything other than stating a fact.  He filled in your silence.

Chris dropped his head down and looked at the hand he was resting on his lap. “For the longest time I doubted myself.  I would replay the end of our relationship over and over, and try to see where I had been so blind.” He looked up at you with dampened eyes, full of sorrow.  “How I could have been making you so miserable and not have seen it. I didn’t trust my judgement anymore.”

Seeing the pain in his eyes made you quickly lean forward and place your hands over the one on his thigh.  Earnestly, you swore to him, “You never made me miserable. I just wanted you to be free so you could be who you were meant to be.”

He took his arm off the top of the couch and covered yours with it, giving them a squeeze.  “I know that now, but I didn’t until recently and it really fucked me up. I was going along thinking everything was fine and then BOOM!”

You started to cry.  There was no stopping the tears. You felt terrible about the past.  His expression as he remembered those days was like a punch to the gut because you were the cause of it. Pulling your hands away, and using them to cover your face, you said, “I’m sorry. Chris. I don’t know if I can ever make it right, or if you’ll ever forgive me, but I am so, so sorry.”

Chris scooted over close to you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, letting you cry upon his.  “Hey, shhh, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Shhh.”

His hand stroked your back soothingly, his shushing noises comforted you.  It hadn’t always been good times with you guys back in high school. You were both headstrong and fights did erupt from time to time.  Many of them ended just like this, and being in his arms again, hearing that sound, tied the past and present back together again. You were hopelessly, helplessly, in love with him again. 

Once you’d gotten yourself under control, Chris released you, but remained close.  He took your hand in his and ran his thumb over your knuckles while he confessed, “Listen. I’ve already forgiven you, I’m not mad anymore.  It’s done. It’s in the past and we’re stronger for it.”

Nodding quickly, you said with a sniffle, “Thank you. And you’re right, I think we are.”

He took a hand away from yours and used it to rub the back of his neck.  You knew this was something he did when he was nervous about something, and you watched him warily as you wiped the tears off of your face, unsure of what he was going to say next. 

With a raised brow, you asked, “What’s on your mind?”

He laughed lightly and dropped his hand.  “You always could read me like a book.”

“That’s right, so spill it.  Whatever it is.”

He blew out a breath, watching you, perhaps to gauge your reaction.  “Alright. Here goes. I don’t know how you feel about me anymore, but for a while now you’ve been that bee buzzing around inside my brain again.”  

You watched as he searched for the right words.  Finally, he said, shyly, “What I’m trying to say is that,” he paused and looked around for a few seconds before blurting out, “I think I’m falling in love with you again.”  

It took a few seconds for the news to sink in and you sat there stunned and speechless.  Part of you wondered if you were were actually awake, but the thumping in your chest was not something that happened in your dreams.  It wasn’t until now that you realized how badly you’d been wishing to hear those words.

You lifted your hand and cupped his cheek, running your thumb over it.  Tenderly, you told him, “I don’t think I ever truly stopped loving you. You’ve always been the one that I wanted.”

Your faces moved towards each other, close enough to share breaths but not touching. You licked your lips and leaned forward, gingerly brushing them against his mouth. Your entire body was trembling, still not believing this was happening.  His responded by gently sucking your bottom lip, his kiss like a caress you’d long been yearning for. 

Chris’s arms embraced you and tucked you into his body as you both gave into your emotions and needs and shared your first kiss in over a decade. It was still there, that magic.  Your tongues moved together in the same dance they used to share, as if time had never stopped them. 

The rest of the evening was spent alternating between passionate kisses and conversations fueled by happiness, comfort and many more beers.  With no more hurt or or secrets creating a barrier, the possibilities were endless. 

Fortunately, you had the next day off so there was no need to rush to go to sleep.  Eventually the long day and alcohol did catch up with you both and, because of all the drinking, it was decided that Chris would spend the night at your house.  He was a gentleman about it and told you he’d stay on the couch. 

The bathroom supplies had been unpacked and you handed him a towel from the linen closet as he made his way over to the bathroom down the hall.  You pulled out a spare set of sheets and covered the cushions with them, going back to grab a blanket and pillow to finish his makeshift bed. 

Meeting in the hallway on his return, you shared one last kiss and said goodnight  before he continued to his sleeping arrangement for the evening, and you continued to the bathroom to get ready yourself. 

It was the middle of the night when the urge to pee hit you.  You left your room to use the bathroom across the hall. The living room was adjacent to the bedrooms and you had a clear view of the sofa in the moonlight coming through an uncovered window. 

The blanket had fallen onto the floor and Chris’s muscular body was all scrunched up on the couch.  He was sleeping in just a pair of boxer briefs. Instantly, you decided that he didn’t belong out there. He belonged beside you. You’d waited long enough for him.

Walking softly, you made your way to him and placed a hand upon his shoulder.  “Chris,” you whispered as you gently shook him, “Chris, wake up.”

Sleepily, he opened one eye, searching around until he could focus on you.

“S’everything ok?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. 

“Couldn’t be better,” you assured him.  “Come to bed with me.”

Groggily, he replied, “It’s okay, I’m alright on here.”

Obviously, his half asleep brain wasn’t quite understanding what you meant.  To make sure there was no confusion, you reached down to the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing and pulled it off.  

Chris had started to yawn as you began to take off your top, and ended it with a sharp intake of breath as your naked body registered in his brain. Both of his eyes were open now and his mouth was slightly agape.  

You held out your hand and bent over to take his, repeating, “Come to bed with me, Chris.”  

Out of the corner of your eye, your eyes caught the movement in his underwear.  Some parts of him were picking up on your meaning faster than others. This time, there was no hesitation.  He got up swiftly and pulled you into his arms. 

“Are you sure?” he asked.  When you nodded he kissed you deeply, holding nothing back.  The kiss was barely broken when he swept you off of your feet, and carried you bridal style back to your bedroom.  

Making love with Chris again was like emerging out of the dark.  He awakened parts of you that you’d forgotten about. For the first time in years you felt alive and vibrant and whole.  

You were ready to live life for yourself.  To finally pursue the things that brought you happiness and fulfillment. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song inspiration for this chapter: "After All" by Peter Cetera and Cher


	8. Epilogue:  Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

**2013:**

Since that first night the two of you had gotten back together, you and Chris had been inseparable. The relationship was strong and solid.  The love you shared as adults was deeper and more powerful than anything you’d experienced as teens. 

Your new home became his as well, whenever he was in Massachusetts.  His role as Captain America took his career to heights he’d never imagined.  It was the role he was born to play. You helped to keep him grounded, to keep his worries from overwhelming him.  Chris had finally made his dream truly come true and you couldn’t be more proud of what he’d accomplished.

Your own personal dreams were also shining brightly.  With some of the money you earned from the sale of the house, you were able to invest in the flower shop. You opened a second location a little closer to downtown Boston and business at both stores was booming in both.  You had store managers you could trust to run things and were able to hire additional staff to help them. . Having people you could depend upon allowed you to finally have a life and be able to take time off from time to time.  You were able to go on a much needed vacation and were able to get away to attend events with Chris. 

One day, while working in the shop, an internet order came through. You pulled it up on your screen and went straight to the two most important parts:  the type of gift and the message. The rest of the order details always came second as these pieces reminded you of why you enjoyed this business. Being able to play Cupid never got old.  Delighted, you saw that it was an order for two dozen brightly colored daisies. They had been your favorite since you were a child and you couldn’t help but comment, out loud, on their good taste. 

You scrolled to the bottom of the screen to view what had always been your favorite section: the personal message.  Most of the time these were simple and sweet, but sometimes they were the kind of love letters people wrote movies about.  Those were the ones you lived for, the ones that made you swoon and wish you were the lucky girl. 

There were a few lines written.  That was always a good sign because it meant the person had really put their heart into it.  The message read:

_ 16 years ago today, I asked you out on a date, and you said yes.  Now I’m asking… _

“Will you marry me, Bee?”

The deep, hopeful voice suddenly coming from behind you made you jump, and you quickly spun around to face it.  Chris was there, on bended knee, holding out a small black box with a dazzling diamond ring. Your hands clasped together in front of your mouth, your eyes filled with joyful tears as you screamed, “YES!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song inspiration: Jefferson Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now"

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration Song: "A Bad Goodbye" by Clint Black and Wynonna Judd


End file.
